Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Writing By Cheryl Moore A silver tongue would be nice A pen that wrote golden prose Or poetry would be better. How would it feel to be Billy Collins Whose books sit On my bedside table? His small journeys Make magic of the mundane Of ordinary daily events One poem describes Sitting at his desk words flow Seemingly without his bidding I sit at my desk Pen posed over paper Nothing comes out I could doodle a picture Make it look like a word And start from there Would it be like opening a tap With words pouring out Given enough time? My words wouldn’t be golden Nor even silver Probably just tin Maybe Billie’s don’t flow golden Until he works and revises As most good writers must…
Category: Sparks
Memorable writing that sparks imagination.
Holding Water
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Holding Water By M.A. Dooley I remember the first winery I designed in the middle of a level vineyard. Construction began after the vines were removed and the earth was excavated for the foundation. A big storm hit the northern Sonoma County and lasted for days. At the jobsite meeting, the crew had erected a sign at the edge of a large body of captured rainwater where the future building would go. The sign read Lake Dooley, named after me, the architect. It was funny and I laughed. I had great capacity for everything, hard work, men and their jokes, life. My lake would evaporate, percolate, and be drained and no one would ever know of Lake Dooley. The spring of 2023 was too full to process. The snow and rain kept falling, the rivers were…
Sunsets
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Sunsets By Joop Delahaye Sunsets . . . always beautiful, no matter where or when. Blindingly bright in the beginning, can’t look at it, then softening, slipping into the distant ocean . . . the water extinguishing the brightness and the heat and allowing the usual yellows and reds to persist, until they faded to purple and gone. Sitting on a bluff at the Sea Ranch, or on Mount Tam’s west slopes, or the southern Oregon coast at Gold Beach, or on the Croatian coast at Sibenik . . . all notable, all full. The late rays seemed to have an enhanced power of penetration into the soul, the heart. Replenishing spent fuel rods, battery cells, warming the humors. The energy, the short-lasting blast easily pushes open the portals and shines into the nooks and crannies…
How Photography Inspires Writing
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. How Photography Inspires My Writing By Simona Carini On January 18, 2016, walking around North Berkeley, I was brought to a halt by the look of a house: the right and left side were painted in different colors and the overall effect was that of a line bisecting the façade. I took a photo and resumed my walk but kept thinking about the house. At home, I wrote down what I had seen and the musings the sight had stirred, then distilled the material into my first poem “The Divorced House” which was published in the journal, Star 82 Review, together with the photo. At the time, I had been writing for almost 10 years, mostly about food and more recently memoir. Poetry was a new endeavor. As I developed my style and voice, I continued…
Totally Awesome
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Totally Awesome By Caitlin Cunningham I was an eighties girl. I embraced the radical change away from the disco and traditional rock music that I did not really care for when I was young. The eighties brought an entirely new sound that I loved. It was fresh and energetic. After I turned twenty-one, I went to nightclubs frequently in the eighties, I would dance to every song, not caring who asked me. I just wanted to dance all night long. And the outfits we all wore—so much black and neon. Most clubs had black lights that made our colored accessories glow… as well as the lint on our black garments. There were a few clubs I frequented regularly, both at home and at college. I remember one place that was a former Safeway grocery store converted…
A Love Letter to Myself
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. A Love Letter to Myself By Luz Leyden I love that you are embracing all the ‘unfortunate events’ you have experienced and are trying to encapsulate them in writing so that you are insulated from them and their effects. You are a caterpillar who has formed a chrysalis and you are digesting yourself inside so that you can emerge transformed, free, able to fly, released from your former life and all its restrictions. That process and that bravery deserves admiration, respect, and love. I will try to do what is right for you. I will try to steer you towards light, towards enlightenment, towards your real self. I admire your bravery in staying sane through everything you have endured, despite callous provocation. Stay strong. Luz Leyden lives in Ireland where she writes . . . sometimes…
Night Knight
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Night Knight By Su Shafer We spend almost every night together. I’m not away from home often But when I am, I ache And I don’t sleep well. I am uncomfortable with The hardness of strangers The impersonal coarseness Or aloof purist sterility. There is never the welcoming I get at home. The soft embrace, The understanding. At home there is no judgment Or pressure that I am not doing enough, No criticism that I am not enough My bed cradles me like a mother. I am held in a cocoon of love I never want to leave. I close my eyes and my bed hums A silent lullaby Sleep dear one Tired caterpillar Your work will wait Dream of wings And drinking flowers Wake up the butterfly That you…
Wants In a World of Plenty
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Wants In a World of Plenty By DSBriggs I just want to… Laugh aloud. Stay Alive. Keep learning. Keep mobile. Keep learning to let go. Keep loving. I just want to… Shout at the Government. Shout at prejudice. Shout at stupidity. Shout at injustice. Shout at the mess. I just want to… See Children playing. Hear laughing. Taste warm bread. Smell fresh rain in the forest. Touch my dog’s velvety ears. I just want to … Accept the pain that comes with death of loved ones. Accept that I do the best I know how. Accept help graciously as I age. Accept that my way is only one way of many. Accept forgiveness. Accept that some things are unforgivable. I just want to: Continue to write, and be a…
Rain Dog, a Pantoum
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Rain Dog, a Pantoum By Suse Pareto Dog is bored and restless. Rain is pouring down. I’m loath to leave this comfy bed, but walk we must, says she. Rain is pouring down, the road is sodden and feckless. But walk we must, says she, up to the woods we go. The road is sodden and feckless. The hills are wet and slick. Up to the woods we go, Dog barks in great delight. The hills are wet and slick, rain drips from leaf and stick. Dog barks in great delight, “Water slithering, sliding everywhere!” Rain drips from leaf and stick. The gullies run fast and wild, water slithering, sliding everywhere, it’s like the earth has burst. The gullies run fast and wild, Dog nips at water’s tumble. It’s like the…
Smiling
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Smiling By Jenny Beth Schaffer Smiling, after a certain age, is an act of boldness and an invitation to danger because already there are enough lines and wrinkles in your face that the very last thing you want to do is aggravate the problem. Because as everyone knows perfectly well, each smile takes a tiny toll on the elasticity, the buttery lacquer of your already anxious countenance. It’s a high-risk situation, this smile or not smile gambit, one requiring the weighing of the pros and cons, and typically you have just milliseconds to make the decision. Look no further than Wile E. Coyote to understand the consequences of split second decisions. Someone passes on the street, a stranger perhaps, casting the sunshine of their toothiness in your direction. What. Do. You. Do? It calls for a…